


Winter Of Our Youth

by fanfictionaldemeanours



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictionaldemeanours/pseuds/fanfictionaldemeanours
Summary: A Reddie fanfic set when they're all around 24 years old. Richie works at a radio station and feels pretty alone most of the time. Richie, Ben, Bev, and Mike are close friends, yet they feel that something is missing... or someone? They then decide to hang out with Bill, Eddie, and Stan, and suddenly things don't feel so out of place anymore. NO EFFING PENNYWISE LOL. I'd like a happy life for them all <3 I hope you enjoy.....





	Winter Of Our Youth

_“This is the winter of our youth_  
_Oh, but I'm not there yet_  
_I've got nostalgia running through me_  
_And I don't like it.”_  
_\- Bastille,_  
_‘Winter Of Our Youth'_

  
  
**PART 1**

Richie slammed the door to his apartment shut behind him, dumping his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench. He lived in a small apartment; one bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen that shared the same space as the living room. Richie didn’t have a dining table. He had one couch and a coffee table. He opened the letter that he’d taken out of his post box three minutes earlier. Richie scanned the words on the page. A speeding fine, his second one in a month, and it was two hundred and fifty dollars.  
“Fucks sake,” he grumbled, yanking the grey beanie off of his head and freeing his mess of black curls. He shook his hair out and threw the letter on the bench beside his wallet and keys. Richie walked to his living room. He took his phone out of his pocket and collapsed onto the couch.  
**5:42pm.** He hadn’t checked his phone in over an hour, since work had been hectic. A few notifications lit up his screen. A couple were texts from Beverly, his best friend, a text from Mike, and then a missed call. The call was from an unknown number, and they had left a voicemail. Richie frowned at his phone and unlocked it to listen to the voicemail.  
_“Hi, Richard. It’s your father here. It’s been over three months and we still haven’t heard from you, which I think is absolutely fucking disgraceful. Your mother misses you, and you’re being an asshole ignoring her. Call us back.”_  
The voice mail ended and Richie slowly brought his phone away from his head.  
“Fuck. _Off_ ,” he said loudly. He barked out a laugh, feeling anger boiling under his skin.  
The last time he’d spoken to his father, he had been over at his parent’s house and they had all gotten into a screaming match. As usual, Wentworth Tozier felt it necessary to inform Richie of how he was ‘wasting his life’ and needed to get a ‘proper job and education’ behind him, and that he was twenty-four fucking years old for Christ’s sake. Richie couldn’t contain his anger and had lost it. He yelled at his father and said that this was entirely the reason he never saw them; he was treated like shit. Wentworth then brought up the fact that Richie was gay, calling him a fucking faggot and claiming it was one of the reasons his life was turning out bad. Richie had then called his dad some colourful names, to which his mother yelled at him not to. She said she didn’t know how he’d turned out this way, she’d tried so hard to raise a good child. Richie would have found that hilarious, had he not been so infuriated. She hadn’t cared for him at all growing up, waving away any of his attempts to gain her attention. Richie had stormed out of the house, with no intention to return or speak to either of them again.  
Richie deleted the voicemail and chucked his phone beside him. He ran his hands under his glasses and over his face, pushing his glasses onto the top of his head. He tried to push his father’s voice out of his mind, but it kept growing louder and louder.  
_“A fucking failure you are Richard. A fucking disgrace.”_  
He dropped his hands and looked over at his phone. He knew what he needed. A fucking drink was what he needed. He grabbed his phone, pulling up his message thread with Bev.

**4:32pm - Bev: hey trashmouth, doing anything tonight?**

**4:33pm - Bev: who am I kidding? of course you’re not, text me back asap.**

Richie scoffed out a laugh. She was so blunt, and he loved her for it. Trashmouth was a nickname that Bev had given him when they worked at a record store together. Richie had a foul mouth, and jokes poured out of it without a second thought. This had earned him the nickname, Trashmouth. Richie had started working there at age 18, when he’d moved out of his parents house. Bev had got a job there 2 years later, and the two just hit it off. Bev and Richie were a lot alike, and their personalities just clicked. She also ran her mouth off just as bad.  
Richie pressed call on Bev’s contact, and she picked up on the second ring.  
“Trashmouth, hello,” Bev said. “Get my texts?”  
“Yeah Marsh, of course,” Richie said, and then he sighed. “I’m in desperate need of a drink right now.”  
“Well that’s fucking perfect, because I was literally about to ask you to come out tonight. I’ll ask Ben and Mike too,” Beverly said, and then seeming to take in Richie’s words added, “wait, what’s up?”  
“Well,” Richie said, “firstly, I got another speeding tick-”  
“For fucks sake, Richie!” Beverly snapped, “That’s the second one in, like, four weeks!”  
“I know, I know,” Richie sighed.   
“Ugh, and secondly?” Bev asked “My father called me.”  
Beverly was silent for a moment.  
“Shit, Rich. What a day.”  
“Tell me about it.”  
“Did you speak to him?” Bev asked.  
“No. He left a great voicemail though. Very companionate, you should hear it,” Richie said, leaning his head back.  
“That fucking asshole,” Bev seethed. “We’ll talk about this when I see you. Meet at Eden’s at 6?”  
“Yep, see you soon,” Richie said. Bev said a quick goodbye and hung up.  
Richie dropped his phone on the couch and sighed, running his hands through his hair again. Eden’s was a bar ten minutes walking distance from his apartment, and about fifteen in the other direction to Bev’s. It was perfect because Richie could get smashed out of his skull and not have to worry about how he’d get home. Tonight was definitely one of those nights.  
Richie checked the time. **5:49pm**. He didn’t bother to get changed from the clothes he wore to work (black jeans with rips on the knees, a grey t-shirt, and a green flannel). He grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and pulled the beanie down over his head, then left.

-

Richie walked into the bar and scanned the tables. Bev was sat in a booth down the back, smiling at her phone. The bar was small, with booths and tables to the left of the door, the actual bar to the right, and there was a room with a stage and dance floor out the back. He walked over to the back booth.  
“’Sup,” Richie greeted Bev, sliding into the seat opposite her.  
“Hey Rich,” Bev said, locking her phone and putting it on the table. “Ben and Mike will be here any minute.”  
“Fab,” Richie said.  
“Alright,” Bev said, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table, “what did your dad have to say?”  
“Oh, you know. Just that I’m an asshole and a disgrace. Mum misses me, why am I ignoring them. Etcetera, etcetera,” Richie said, counting off with his fingers.  
“What a bastard,” Bev said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll never forget what you told me, about that last time you saw them.” Her eyes filled with anger.  
Richie pursed his lips and nodded, “yep, fucking charmers they both are.” He took off his beanie, and raked his hand through his curls. “How about we get a drink, I’ve had an excellent day.”  
“Please, lets,” Bev said. “I’ll buy the first, since you’re probably broke from that speeding fine you idiot.” Richie laughed.  
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he winked.  
“Yeah, yeah,” Bev said, standing up and walking to the bar. Just as she got there the door opened and Ben and Mike walked in. They both said hi to her, Ben kissed her on the cheek, and then walked over to Richie.  
“What’s up Fuckers?” Richie said, earning a chuckle from Mike. Mike sat in the seat beside Richie, and Ben sat opposite.  
“Hey Rich,” Ben said.  
“Is Bev getting your drink?” Mike asked. “What did you do to earn that one?”  
“She’s treating my pain,” Richie said.  
“Shit day?” Mike asked.  
“Oh boy, was it,” Richie said, picking at a lose thread on his sleeve.  
“What happened?” Ben asked. He moved over in his seat as Bev was walking over to them from the Bar.  
“Got a speeding fine. Dad called,” Richie said.  
“Ah, shit Rich,” Ben said. Mike patted Richie on the shoulder.  
Bev slid into the seat next to Ben, and placed her and Richie’s drink on the table. “Richie’s depressed,” she informed the other two men.  
“I am _not_ ,” Richie glared at Bev, “life is just, literally, shitting all over me.”  
“Well, I hope you don’t mean _literally_ -” Bev started.  
“I fucking do mean it, everything is going to shit,” Richie grumbled.  
“Not your job Rich. You love your job,” Mike said, nudging him with his shoulder.  
It was true, Richie did love his job. He worked at a small radio station all day, playing the best music and taking requests. The pay may not have been the greatest, but for now he was happy with it.  
“He just loves his job because he doesn’t have to talk to anyone,” Ben laughed.  
“Shut the fuck up Haystack,” Richie said, pointing his finger at Ben. “I love my job because I basically get to listen to music all day.” Richie took a gulp of his drink. “I also don’t have to talk to anyone, but that’s beside the point.”  
Mike and Ben both laughed, and Bev shook her head smiling. Ben then sat up straighter as though he remembered something important.  
“Bev, ask Rich about Bill’s,” Ben said.  
“What?” Richie asked.  
“Oh yeah! Rich!” Bev said, excitedly. “Bill Denbrough is having a thing at his apartment tomorrow night and you should come.”  
“A thing?” Richie deadpanned.  
“Yeah! Actually, you are coming, you don’t have a choice. Just thought I’d tell you,” Bev smirked, taking a sip of her drink.  
“I’m coming, don’t worry,” Mike said, and Richie looked at him and then at Ben.  
“Bill’s the one from college, right?” Richie asked Ben.  
“Yeah, the one I had those English classes with. He’s a really good guy,” Ben said.  
Richie remembered Bill. He had a stutter, and he came over a few times to the dorm Richie shared with Ben. He remembered liking Bill, and he didn’t like a lot of people. There was a certain calmness about that guy. He was grounded, and he knew what he wanted to do. Richie remembered that he did English and writing courses.  
“I remember him. Bev, have you met him?” Richie asked.  
“A few times. I’ve met his roommate too.”  
“Yeah, Eddie will be there. And Stan, a friend of theirs,” Ben said. Richie scrunched his nose up and looked at Bev.  
“I don’t know these people,” Richie whined, slouching back in the booth.  
“Rich, you’ll like them. They’re like us,” Ben said. He looked at Beverly and then Mike. “It feels.. different somehow, I don’t know,” Ben said, shaking his head like he was pushing aside a thought.  
Bev was frowning at nothing and then nodded. “Just come, okay?” She said to Richie.  
Richie stared at Ben, Beverly, and then Mike for a moment. This seemed so important to them, and he felt it too. He had no idea what, but he felt _something_.  
Richie sighed loud and dramatic, and then looked at Mike. “Are we doing this?”  
Mike laughed. “Yeah Rich. We’re doing this.”  
“Ugh fine,” Richie grumbled. “Now are you two going to get drunk with us or not?”  
Ben and Mike both laughed, and then got up and walked to the bar.

-

Richie and Bev were both standing outside the bar smoking. It was a quarter to nine and they’d had their fair share of drinks already.  
“Rich, do you ever feel like something’s missing?” Bev asked around her cigarette. She sucked on it, holding in the smoke, and then blew.  
“What?” Richie asked, blowing out smoke.  
“This is going to sound really fucking weird,” Bev said, frowning. She was quiet for a moment, and Richie watched her. He felt something odd, like a tugging in his chest. “When it’s the four of us, I feel really comfortable. Like we’re meant to be together. But then sometimes it’s like there’s people missing?” She looked at Richie. “Am I crazy?”  
Richie shook his head, completely forgetting his cigarette, and said quietly, “no, go on.”  
“Well, I’ve met Bill before right. But then the other day I was with Ben, and we both went over to Bill’s. Eddie and Stan were there too, and I felt that same feeling. But in another part of me, because you and Mike weren’t there.” Bev took another drag of her cigarette, and Richie stared past her.  
He knew exactly what she was talking about. He’d thought that before but brushed it off. Of course you’d feel comfortable with your friends, that’s what it was meant to feel like. But this was different, and he knew it now. He felt like something was missing. He was alone too much. He lived alone, slept alone. He had his friends, sure, but he knew what Bev meant when she said that it felt like people were missing.  
“Do I sound whacked?” Bev asked, breaking Richie from his thoughts. Richie looked back at her, and she had a worried expression on her face.  
“No,” he said, his face serious. “I’ve felt that before Bev.” She stared back at him. “I feel too alone, sometimes, and it’s like people are missing. Shit, what is that?”  
Bev shook her head slowly, “I don’t know Rich, I just don’t know.” She dropped her cigarette on the ground and squished it with her boot. “But I do know that you should come tomorrow night, okay?”  
“Okay,” Richie said quietly. He put out his cigarette under his shoe too.

-

“Fuck my life,” Richie muttered under his breath. He stood with Beverly outside the door to Bill Denbrough’s apartment. Bev raised her knuckles and rapped on the door twice.  
“Coming!” A voice called from the other side of the door. The door opened and revealed a Bill Denbrough, looking slightly older than when Richie had seen him last. “Bev! Richie! Come in,” Bill said, moving aside.  
“Hey Bill!” Bev said, grinning and hugging him. Bill returned the embrace warmly, and then turned to Richie.  
“Hey Richie, long time no see,” Bill said smiling. He held out hand for Richie to shake.  
“Hey Bill,” Richie replied, shaking Bill’s hand. It felt oddly comforting. “How have you been?”  
“Pretty good, and you?”  
“Yeah alright, same old same old.” Richie said. He noticed that Bill’s stutter was completely gone.  
“That’s good. We’re just waiting on Stan to arrive now. He’s late as usual,” Bill said.  
Richie looked around and saw Mike and Ben sitting on a couch in the living room straight ahead. Bill’s apartment wasn’t too big. His living room was open just like in Richie’s place. Bev waltzed straight over to the couches and collapsed next to Ben giving him a kiss.  
“Would you like a beer, Rich?” Bill asked.  
Richie was about to reply when he noticed someone sitting on the couch that he’d never seen before. He felt something strange, and a cold chill ran through him. This man, although he looked young, was unlike anyone Richie had seen before. He didn’t believe in any of that weird stuff, but he suddenly felt like he’d been waiting for this moment and didn’t know it. That feeling that Bev had been talking about, how it always felt like people were missing, suddenly decreased significantly when he saw this man. He sat on the couch in long denim overalls and a fucking pink sweatshirt underneath. Richie thought it was adorable. The man was staring back at him with an equally puzzled expression than Richie must have had.  
“Richie?” Bill asked, snapping Richie out of his daze.  
“What?” Richie asked, turning to face Bill.  
“Would you like a beer?” Bill asked.  
“Oh, yeah. Thanks Bill,” Richie said, following Bill to the fridge.  
“That’s Eddie, by the way,” Bill said as he opened the fridge door.  
“What? Okay?”  
“You should go talk to him,” Bill said, handing Richie the beer. He gave him a knowing look.  
Richie turned around and saw Eddie staring at him. Once he saw that Richie noticed, he snapped his gaze back to the others.

-

**I hope everyone liked this, I have a lot more planned for the fic x**


End file.
